


The Gift

by Ramzes



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 00:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16545590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramzes/pseuds/Ramzes
Summary: Prince Aelor's death left King Aerys I Targaryen without an heir. And proclaiming Princess Aelora, Aelor's twin, as such was not a decision he made lightly. Set a little before the Third Blackfyre Rebellion.





	The Gift

Spring would come soon, the maesters claimed. Maekar wondered what signs of theirs led them to believe this since he, personally, only saw trees that looked dead, a thick layer of snow, white on the top of towers and grey in the courtyards where a countless numbers of feet had trodden over it, the spirals of smoke over the houses in the city underneath as people used up the last of their supplies of vegetables. Scrawny horses dragged battered carts and even the well looked-after stallions in the royal  stables had started to turn their heads at the hay offered to them – even they wanted spring, although right now, to them it meant grass.

Maekar was not so eager. His experience with spring was not a good one. Dyanna’s illness had first manifested in spring, almost thirty years ago; a spring had brought over the sickness that had decimated a good part of the population of King’s Landing, starting with his own father. He had no desire to see what this new spring would come up with. Although he already had some idea – it was hard not to.

Darkness was falling fast. From the floor under, Maekar could hear the bustling and chattering of servants as they brought the wide chargers with the first course for the evening feast. He did not feel hungry and while Aerys held hittle respect for ceremonies for himself, he did not impose it on others either. Right now, the noise of the great hall was not appealing and it became even less appealing with each step Maekar made towards his chambers.

After he and the King had finally reconciled, Maekar had come to King’s Landing without bothering to pretend that separate chambers for his companion were in order – appearances had been needed until his daughters grew up. Now, many of the things in his own rooms bore the imprint of Lady Saryl’s tastes for decorating and maintaining – dark red carpets, green colours, many small wooden figurines, and balls made of glass here and there. He stopped to stare at a vase with flowers from the glass gardens when he heard the voices and smiled. Then, he stopped when Daella’s voice caught on a sob.

When he opened the door, his daughters and Saryl stopped their conversation at once and Daella started rising.

“No, no,” Maekar said, stopping her. His gaze flickered over her quickly and he did not like what he saw. Too thin a frame. Too gaunt a face. She looked much older than her years. In less than two years of a marriage, that vibrant glow, the radiance that had made everyone who saw her catch their breath, had faded away.

She had not been like this at all during her first marriage. “What’s going on with you?” Maekar asked, dreading the answer, but she only looked away and denied.

Saryl, however, did not let him dwell in ignorance.

“Nothing that we didn’t already know,” she said as they made ready for bed some hours later. “Manfred Dondarrion thinks he should receive more because of their marriage. Like Velaryon did.”

Maekar snorted. “Baelor warned me years ago that Jena’s kin would become a problem,” he said. “Gods,  but he was smart! I suggest Dondarrion comes to me with his pretenses but he won’t do it, will he? If he takes it out on Daella, I will… Does he beat her?” he asked all of a sudden and forced Saryl to look at him in the eye. “Did she tell you such a thing?”

She shook her head immediately. “No but she… isn’t happy. And things are going to become worse, now that the King is going to proclaim you his heir. He’s going to expect… much.”

“This still isn’t a sure thing,” Maekar said. If it was up to him, it would never come to be.

Her expression softened a little. “And they say Daeron is the one ignoring real world,” she said. “What choice does he have?” she asked reasonably.

“Aelora is getting better,” he replied but even he felt how weak this argument was.

* * *

The Queen’s presence at the conversation surprised Maekar as much as the Hand of the King’s absence did. Alys, he had expected. It was somehow fitting that the matter of succession would be discussed by the family alone, although Maekar would have appreciated some support here.  Brynden Rivers had just as much of a wish to see Maekar on the Iron Throne as Maekar himself.

The first stars were already breaking the dark vault of twilight blue sky. Maekar could see them through the open shutters of the nearest window, between the iron bars. Alys stood there, her face pressed against those bars and her hands extended out, catching the flakes of one last snowfall – at least the maesters promised it would be the last. In the rather cold solar, she was dressed very lightly, without even a thick shawl, and still she seemed to be hot, her cheek red and her neck glistening with perspiration. She did not notice his arrival, staring somewhere far ahead, deep in thought.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Aerys said from his deep soft chair. “The older we get, the more we return to who we used to be. I remember her at the time of her betrothal. It was always too hot here for her. She was a creature of mountain winds and snow. Over time, she just learned to hide it better.”

He said such things sometimes, surprising Maekar with the unexpectedness of his observations – but not the sharpness. _He isn’t removed from the world at all,_ the younger man thought. H _e simply chooses to occupy himself with other matters but he knows of the world and people._ Still, Aerys’ voice was too soft, his face too tired, as if he was halfway to his pyre already.

“What else do you remember?” Maekar asked roughly because these thoughts were not pleasant ones. It was too terrible to think that there were only two of them where before, there had been four.

“Another winter, all those years ago,” Aerys replied immediately. “Grandfather was already dying, we knew it, but being near death had not changed his malice. He had promised that you’d be allowed to visit us – and at the last moment, he changed his mind.”

“Is this so?” Maekar asked, surprised. It was not that in those days, he had been exposed to different news – he simply had been given none. Not at his grandfather’s court.

Aerys nodded. “Everyone in the castle, from Father to the stable boys, waited but he would not die. What  I remember best from these days was the expectation in the very air. To this day, the end of every winter reminds me of that one. When I feel spring near, I am immediately transported to Baelor’s old chamber in Dragonstone, on his bed with the thick cover in blue and yellow. He sits on the lion pelt in front of the fireplace, inspecting his bow and arrows, and Rhaege stands at the window watching the night come. And you aren’t there.”

Maekar tried to remember what he had been doing during this last winter but nothing came to mind. Just the overwhelming feeling of being imprisoned.

“Please,” Aelinor said harshly from where she stood under a tapestry depicting King Jaehaerys. “Do we have to talk about the past? I thought we were here to discuss the future.”

This sharpness was not her, had not been in years. Maekar gave her a closer look that was met with the defensive glare of a beast feeling its end. This was another blow to her, he realized. Declaring another heir after Aelor’s death would remind everyone once again that Aelinor had failed in the principal duty of every queen.  Maekar was so well acquainted with the feeling of failure through no fault of his own.

Alys came to take her seat; a little surprised, Maekar realized that while in their youth, she had been more beautiful than Aelinor, she now looked worse. Ambition and constant watchfulness for a blow had robbed her of a good deal of her beauty. Aelinor, on the contrary, seemed to have frozen in time somewhere in her early thirties. For some reason, this was worse than Alys’ bitterness.

“I wish that Aelora were well enough to attend,” Aerys said.

“She will be,” Alys replied immediately, still contained but with a flash of worry crossing her eyes. “She was in shock but she’s doing better already. In a few months, she’ll be as good as new.”

 _I doubt it_ , Maekar thought grimly but he wished it would be so. The girl would never be over the way her brother and husband had died – but over time, she may learn to deal with it better.

“Perhaps we should postpone this conversation for the time she’s better, then?” he suggested and Alys cast him a suspicious look. He could see her mind working already. If she could win some time, have these few months, then she could gain allies and gather marriage proposals from allies who could turn the tide her way.

 _Her way._ Not Aelora’s. Maekar banished this thought immediately. The girl did not know what was good for her. With time, she would come to value her bright future. So many wanted to sit this iron chair.

Alys frowned, uncertain. And then, she looked at him as directly as she had used to, when she had first come to court as Rhaegel’s betrothed. “Why would you do this?” she asked bluntly. “Every week, every day that delays Aerys’ decision is time that you waste and cannot get back. If you want the throne, you should act now.”

“Alys,” he said simply, suddenly tired to the bone, “I don’t want it.”

She drew a sharp breath and said nothing, thinking. Just for a moment, Maekar saw the wildness and simplicity that had been her specific radiance decades ago, a glow very different from Daella’s but no less true. And no less lost. “She’s losing herself,” Rhaegel had said a few years ago, and Maekar had waved this off as one of his brother’s ramblings. Now, he just felt saddened.

“I don’t believe you,” she finally said and Maekar let out a bark of laughter.

“Now, this is something,” he said. “Do you know that the last person who said this to me was King Aegon?”

She waved this off with an impatient hand. “You have always wanted glory.”

He laughed again, bitterly. “What glory has this old throne brought anyone since we were born? Come on, Alys, I know you’re smarter than this. What can the throne give me? Not you,” he added, forestalling her. “Me.”

He saw the moment understanding dawned upon her. She blanched. Swallowed. Grasped the armrests of her chair as she realized that the last obstacle between her and her ambition was removing himself out of the way.

In the silence. Aelinor’s laughter rang out. “Looks like Alys finally got it,” she said. “I suppose she wanted to hear it from you, Maekar. I told her that you would do just this, almost certainly, but she didn’t believe me.”

He shrugged. “Right now, I wouldn’t trust myself to even help find a decent husband for Aelora, let alone do some good as king one day.”

“Would you all please shut up?” asked the man who was the King at the moment. “Before you start proposing matches for the future consort of the future Queen.”

They all did shut up and turned to him, eyes widening in realization. Maekar was the first to recover. “Listen now, Brother,” he said. “You can’t…”

“I can,” Aerys said simply.” I can do whatever I want and you, Maekar, have no choice but accept it. I really appreciate your lack of ambition in this regard but it doesn’t change anything. Aelora is a lady. A girl who is in a really bad way right now. And you have already proven that you are reliable. What makes any of you think that I’d choose the girl over the man in our circumstances?”

Maekar could think of a hundred reasons but right now, only one came to his mind. He did not want this throne. The throne that should have been Baelor’s. And this would not sound very convincing.

“This is something worth considering,” Alys said but despite her ostensible reluctance, her eyes were keen and calculating and Maekar felt anger. Alys had become a crone devoured by her ambition. He knew with certainty that she would soon start discussing her daughter’s match to him, although she knew about the danger. Did she really see herself as the power behind the throne? Maekar could easily guess what she was up to: if he took the throne without being interested, that would give her and Aelora, when she recovered, to do the ruling – a much better option than trying to please a consort to whose family they would be beholden for the support. _Do you know me so little, Alys_ , he wondered but just when he was going to say that he’d throw his weight behind Aelora to strengthen her position, Aerys preempted him.

“Very well,” he said. “If I arrange things in a way that would give you some great prerogatives and Aelora, the crown, would this be acceptable for you?”

It was evident that this was not the decision he favoured but he had made it and Maekar wondered why just for a moment, before the feeling of being saved overcame him. He looked at Aerys and mouthed a silent “thank you”.

His brother’s glare was clear enough. _Don’t make me regret this,_ Aerys was saying.

I won’t, Maekar thought and finally remembered that despite his nose being always in a book, Aerys knew the world well enough to make just the best gifts to people when he really wanted to. Give them their very heart’s desire.

Saved, saved, saved…

 

**The End**


End file.
